


Bewitched

by readysetstarker



Series: Anonymous Said... [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, King Tony Stark, M/M, Witch Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-02-01 04:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21386062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readysetstarker/pseuds/readysetstarker
Summary: Tony had never been one to stifle Morgan’s curiosity. He encouraged it, in fact, would always act so proud and enamored by his daughter’s adventures when she recounted them at dinner or while they took a walk through the gardens. He loved watching her eyes light up in excitement as she recounted the wizards she watch perform in the city square or the hurried sketches of animals she drew wandering the city’s border.He had never thought, not once, to set limits to her curiosity.At least, not until the night she didn’t come home.prompt fill from tumblr
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Anonymous Said... [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541701
Comments: 7
Kudos: 177





	Bewitched

**Author's Note:**

> i loooooove fantasy aus, and i want to come back to this for a longfic. maybe i will, who knows?
> 
> **prompt from tumblr:** could I request about king tony stark meets and falls in love with witch peter parker

Tony had never been one to stifle Morgan’s curiosity. He encouraged it, in fact, would always act so proud and enamored by his daughter’s adventures when she recounted them at dinner or while they took a walk through the gardens. He loved watching her eyes light up in excitement as she recounted the wizards she watch perform in the city square or the hurried sketches of animals she drew wandering the city’s border.

He had never thought, not once, to set limits to her curiosity.

At least, not until the night she didn’t come home.

Tony rode out along with six search parties, searched every nook and cranny of the royal capital, sending men and women charging through neighboring towns and villages for any sign of his daughter. Houses were upturned, forest homes were trampled, and Tony was ready to wage war in order to find her. He swore that any person who dared to harm a hair on his child’s head would die slowly and painfully in the middle of the town square, an example made of them.

He reluctantly returned to the castle to rest for a search the next day, but he barely slept. Most of the night was spent pacing about the room until exhaustion finally overtook him, and he was found hunched over his desk the next morning. He startled awake, ready to ride out despite the circles beneath his eyes. 

“There won’t be a need for that, sire,” Jarvis, his advisor, assured him. His voice was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the panic in Tony’s head, and it stopped him from rushing out of his bedroom door. “Lady Morgan is standing in the throne room awaiting your presence.”

“Morgan? Is she all right!?” Tony’s fingers dug into Jarvis’s shoulders when he grabbed at the man. “What happened to her? How did she get back?”

“You can ask the young man who escorted her home, sire.” Jarvis patted the back of Tony’s hands, and the king dropped them to his sides. “She’s rather smitten with him, so do be polite when you address him. No threats, as he seems to have taken good care of her.”

Tony got himself ready quickly, pushing away his handmaids when they didn’t shave his stubble off as quickly as he liked. Jarvis helped him dress, a simple crimson waistcoat over a white long sleeve tunic and black pants, and he had to remind Tony to pull his boots on so he didn’t greet a guest at his home barefoot. Tony couldn’t have cared less about his state of dress when it came to taking his daughter back from a stranger, but he knew that his appearance would be harshly scrutinized by his court otherwise.

He pushed his hair back and hoped the dark circles beneath his eyes weren’t too obvious. Jarvis gave him one quick glance-over before nodding his approval and holding open the door to the throne room for Tony.

Morgan, pristine and clean and, most importantly, unharmed spins from where she was talking with her nanny. The only indication she had been in trouble was a series of rips in the skirt of her dress, which was already being inspected by the older woman under Tony’s hire. Morgan’s pretty brown eyes lit up when she saw her father, and Tony couldn’t have cared less about his image as he dashed to meet her halfway, falling to his knees as she threw her little arms around his neck.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed into her neck, petting her hair and kissing her cheek. “Baby, I was so scared you were gone. What happened, where did you go?”

His tone was just a touch too harsh. When he pulled her away to arm’s length, her lip was trembling and her eyes were bright and wet.

“I was playing hide and seek with Harley, and I got lost,” she said, sniffling and blinking fat tears down her cheeks. Tony’s hands, shaking with a rush of adrenaline and relief, are gentle when he wipes them away. “There were wolves, and I tried to run away but I ripped up my dress. I’m so sorry, daddy.”

“Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Tony pulled her to him again and squeezed her tight. “I’m not mad, and you’re not in trouble. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Quiet murmurs passed through the crowd around him as he held his child. He could hear some women tittering about what a caring father he was, about how gentle and loving he was with Morgan. One woman, just a little too loudly, wondered how he could benefit if she gave Morgan her attention when Tony was too busy running his kingdom. 

Tony pushed those kinds of comments away from the forefront of his mind and focused instead on the girl in his arms. He wasn’t interested in remarrying after his previous wife left him. Morgan didn’t need anyone else in her life.

As he kissed her forehead for maybe the sixth time, a figure stepped close, and Tony glanced up at them from over the top of his daughter’s head. A young man with chestnut curls and matching eyes bowed his head reverently, a small smile pulling at his lips. He was dressed in a light brown tunic opened low on his chest, dark green pants, and brown shoes so worn that Tony couldn’t see the soles in them. His fingers had smudges of dirt on them, and a browning maple leaf was tucked neatly behind his left ear. A worn leather satchel hung from his shoulder and down to his hip, looking fat with items underneath its flap.

Morgan pulled away from her father and stepped back to gesture widely to the young man. “This is Peter! He helped me when I got lost and drove the wolves away.”

“I’m sorry for keeping her so long, Your Grace,” he said. There was a musical lilt to his voice, sweet to Tony’s ears as he looked the king fearlessly in the eyes. “She was injured while trying to flee the wolves, and I didn’t want to return her to you in that state. I kept her long enough to heal her injuries before bringing her home.”

Tony opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by an excited Morgan jumping up and taking Peter’s hand. “Pete, Pete, do that thing you showed me last night! The magic trick!”

Peter looked bashfully at Tony, then Morgan, before conceding to her begging. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small cloth bag, and from that he pulled out a small seed. Morgan giggled excitedly as Peter set it in his palm and covered it with his other hand. A few twists of his wrist and when he pulled his hands apart—

Shock widened Tony’s eyes as he stared at a bright red, fully-ripened apple now sitting in Peter’s open hand. He offered it to Tony, who took it to a chorus of gasps from his court. They were silenced immediately by Morgan’s excited clapping.

“It’s so amazing!” Morgan gushed as Tony turned the fresh fruit over in his hands. “He did that with my knee, too! It’s all healed up!” She yanked her skirts up to show off her healed knee, and her nanny rushed over to pull the young girl’s skirts down again. Still, if there had been any sign of injury on his baby, Tony didn’t see it. And Morgan would never lie in order to raise the social status of a complete stranger.

Peter’s cheeks burned pink as he averted his gaze to the floor. His teeth hid a proud smile as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. Tony’s fingers tightened around the smooth red skin of the fruit in his hands, and he had to keep himself from turning it into pulp between his fingers.

“Well, Peter,” he said, “are you looking for a steady line of work?”

—

Despite criticism for harboring a witch in his court, Tony found that Peter brought with him a sense of peace to the servants that worked and lived there. Sure, he kept Morgan entertained with his endless magic tricks and ears that never seemed to tire of her stories (all past-lived or fictitious), but he always seemed to look out for Tony. 

That trick of growing fruits from their seeds came in handy when Tony’s stomach growled just before a meeting with a potential paramour. Morgan needed a mother, a caretaker, and Tony had a duty to give his country someone to rule with him. Even if he did find himself yawning and rolling his eyes at each doe-eyed woman who came through to try and catch his fancy. Each mumbled comment earned him a chuckle or smothered smile from the witch at his side.

Morgan’s opinion was just as important as his, and the young girl accompanied him to each meeting. She would curtsy and greet each woman politely, just as Tony and her nanny had taught her, but no matter how much the women talked to her, she always made her way back to Peter, clinging to his tunic or sitting at his feet and purposely looking very bored with them.

Peter entertained her while Tony tried to build a connection with each potential partner he met. And Tony, despite his best efforts, found his gaze going back to the young man playing with his daughter, whose face brightened every time Peter managed to produce a flower from behind her ear.

Tony hadn’t even realized he’d been staring for so long until the woman who had wrapped herself around his arm gave him a tug, bringing his eyes back to her. 

“Are you even listening to me?” she asked, offense hanging off every word.

Tony looked at her, then back to Peter, who was now watching him from across the way while his hands created fairy lights for Morgan to play with. His eyes blazed trails up Tony’s body, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips. That pretty pink blush, something Tony had come to appreciate over the past weeks, colored his cheeks, and he returned his focus to Morgan’s entertainment.

Another tug at his arm, and Tony couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.

“I mean no offense, madame,” he said, easily peeling her fingers from his arm. “But it seems someone else has my attention this evening.”

—

The taste of cinnamon, ripe-sweet apples, and rum sat on Tony’s tongue when he pulled the young witch close to him, knees locked on each side of his lap as the witch grabbed at him with strong hands. He hadn’t expected any of this, of the young magic-user clinging to him in desperation as he rolled his hips down against Tony’s.

He should have seen it sooner, if he as being honest. Peter was Morgan’s favorite person, directly after her father, the person who looked after her when Tony couldn’t and kept her excitable mind quiet during court sessions. He had protected her when Tony couldn’t, held her when Tony’s attention was forced to the throne. He looked after her and loved her, and Tony couldn’t have asked for more from a partner.

It made sense, right? It made sense to him, when he curled his arms around the lithe frame in his lap and skated fingers across smooth and soft skin.

“Your Grace,” Peter moaned against his lips, almost purring into his mouth when Tony squeezed his thighs and kissed him. “Tony, please.”

“What is it you want, my little witch?” Tony asked, and he relished the shiver that ran through Peter’s body at his words, at the subtle brush of their lips. “Tell me, and I’ll drown you in your desires.”

“You.” Peter’s fingers were gentle against the prickly stubble on his jaw, and the young man’s lips pressed tenderly to his. “You and only you.”


End file.
